Epilogue
by Silvershadow471
Summary: While waiting to be rescued from the landscape of Midnight, the atmosphere in the broken shuttle was tense and heavy with regret. Jethro wanted to change that. (Note: stand-alone oneshot. An 'epilogue' to the events of the episode, not another fanfic)


**Now this is an old one. I started writing this, oh, three or four years ago on my iPod Touch. Maybe even five. I transferred it to my laptop in hopes that I would finish it faster, but it's only when I re-watched **_**Midnight**_** the other day that I wrapped it up with a quick ending. Now it finally visits your screen.**

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><p><em>"Once again, we're terribly sorry for the inconveniences on this trip. If you would please wait for another twenty to thirty minutes, then we'll have maintenance come and escort everyone back to the resort."<em>

The broken-down shuttle was quieter than it had been all afternoon. It wasn't moving; how could it since its pilot car had been ripped away? It was currently stopped on an alternate route to the Sapphire Waterfalls, sitting helplessly in the merciless wilderness with only metal light shields between them and Midnight.

The passengers of said shuttle, who only an hour ago were eager and cheerful tourists, sat in various areas of the UV-protected car, all silent.

Professor Hobbes and his assistant Dee Dee were in one row, somber despite being so cheery before (the former mentioned he had ridden the shuttle to the falls fourteen times with so much enthusiasm just earlier that day). They were both quiet, keeping to their own thoughts.

Farther back, the Cane family took up two of the benches. Biff and Val were close together, the poor man still trying to comfort his wife. Their teenage son, Jethro, was behind them, looking the best out of all the grieving passengers: he had his forearms on his legs, head against the back of his parents' seats with one earbud in and the other dangling, music player clasped in both hands and eyes half-lidded. Almost exactly like he was before, but with an expression that showed he was lost in thought.

The rows up front were busted, broken but within repair. A book was open, lying on a splinter of metal on the ground. They all remembered it was the one Sky was reading, and it was there, fallen and seemingly forgotten. Holes would be burned into its covers if his eyes were really fire, though.

Face portraying absolutely none of his happy-go-lucky, adventure-loving self, the Doctor sat in the aisle with his back against an aisle seat, grim eyes staring at the novel to his left. He hadn't said anything since the incident, but instead chose to sit there, stone still, arm draped over one knee. No one blamed him, since one doesn't shake off an experience like that like dust on a jacket; it was made even worse for the atmosphere of the car that the majority of its occupants had tried to kill the man who was right about almost everything. The mixture of guilt and shame was palpable as they waited for their only ride back to asylum from the inhospitable planet.

Finally, Jethro couldn't take the silence any longer. One of his favorite songs just ended (which he had only half listened to), and an old, old song that his great-grandfather had liked started playing. He didn't feel like listening to it, so he took a breath and paused the song.

"Doctor?"

It took a second to register before he blinked and looked over at the black-haired kid sitting sideways on the chair. He looked him over as the teen slid his earbuds and music player into his bag, but the Doctor kept quiet.

"Doctor," Jethro started again, "there's still something you haven't completely answered for us."

"Jethro, don't bother him!" his mother hissed, but he ignored her.

"You said you were clever—which is true, which is so true," he added, "but you haven't told us yet: What are you?"

"Now Jethro, that's just rude!" Val snapped, turning around to glare at her son. "And after what's just happened, that shouldn't even matter anymore!"

"Mum..."

The Doctor watched, slowly shaking his head. "Humans," he muttered to himself, but the two stopped arguing. It was the first time he had spoken since the car had calmed down.

"What?"

"You humans," he said louder. "No matter the time or your age, you're always so curious. It's a virtue to children and a pest to adults, but you're all curious. Always reading, writing, searching, researching, experimenting: the list goes on and on!"

Jethro smiled. The Doctor was beginning to sound like the man they knew before. "When the end of the world comes," he continued, "the universal apocalypse happens, you'll be gathered on your front lawns with cameras and phones, uploading videos for other people to see. Then you'll remember to try to survive. You'll go to the ends of the galaxies for a piece of data, evidence, or footage, or for an artifact, a material, an experience. If Heaven opened up to the public without warning, you would throw caution and suspicion to the wind just for a look inside. If Hell froze over— Well, in a sense, the town Hel actually does freeze over— No," he corrected himself, beginning to lose the others as he spoke faster, "Hel _did_ freeze over. Annually, too. But if the flaming-and-burning Hell froze over, you would have scientists trying to find out what elements were in the ice and priests investigating history for any explanations.

"But your curiosity has led to a race of geniuses with endless possibilities ahead of them." A slender finger pointed at Jethro, bringing the boy to alertness once again. "Curiosity is a wonderful thing, and don't ever forget that."

"But Doctor," Jethro started before the man could continue and go on and on, "every time you talk about humans, it's always 'you humans,' never 'us humans' or 'we humans'." He leaned forward a bit, curiosity now completely evident. "It sounds like you put those giveaways in sentences, waiting and wanting someone to find them." A sly teenaged smile appeared on his face. "So where's our prize?"

A mask hid all emotions as the Doctor looked up at the kid, who was waiting for an answer while his grin wavered. A minute of silence later, brown eyes blinked as he took a long, deep breath. "...To humans, I would be known as an alien."

Jethro was a bit disappointed at the reply, but he didn't hesitate. "Yes, but what kind?" Pushing himself nimbly out of the seat and onto the ground, he moved over to lean back against his parents' row, across the aisle from the Doctor. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "Not all aliens are the same. What species are you?"

His shoulders relaxed as he tilted his head back slightly, gaze directed at the roof. "I'm a Time Lord."

"Time Lord, huh? Sorry, haven't heard of them."

"Not surprised. Our home planet Gallifrey was quite a distance from here. Destroyed; just me now."

"...oh."

Biff, who had apparently been listening, patted his son's shoulder. "Come on, boy; don't bother him anymore with your questions."

_The last of his kind_, thought Jethro, watching him stare into space. _It sounds so cliché-ing-ly serious, it could almost be funny, but the living proof makes it so sad. The only one different among another species for...however many years_.

"How old are you?"

"Jethro, be polite!" Val almost shrieked, but Jethro merely shrugged.

"Doctor, you look like you're a thirty-something-year-old human, but if you aren't human, then you're probably not thirty either." He paused when he saw chocolate eyes again. "Besides, a man that brilliant and experienced has to have at least sixty, seventy years behind him. You're too smart to be thirty."

The Doctor half-grinned at that comment, making Jethro glad that he was helping. Even though Val opened her mouth to say something, the alien beat her to it. "I am nine hundred and five years old, to answer your question. Now, if I could ask a question, why would you want to know so much? Why should you even care?"

Jethro's nostrils flared, but he quickly sealed his lips, knowing better than to laugh. He brought one hand up to point behind him at his parents, mouthing 'So overprotective.' Then his finger drew a line across his neck as he stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes. The other laughed, erasing the dark and grim aura he had before.

"What?" Val asked in a 'demanding mother' voice that annoyed Jethro. "What so funny? I didn't hear him say anything!"

"Mmm? Oh, telepaths, Time Lords are," he replied casually, letting it quickly slip off his tongue. "He didn't have to say anything, but I could still hear it. Well, hear it, know it, see it; the term's flexible."

Glancing back at Jethro, the Doctor gave him a wink. "Good answer. Got me started with my life, after all."

Now Jethro laughed. "Telepathic, as in psychic, right?"

"To a certain extent, yeah."

"And Time Lord, as in Lord of Time, as in time traveler?"

"Yep."

"That's how you know so much!" Clasping his hands in front of his knees again, he rolled his black-haired head around in a circle. "Wow, it would be so amazing to go on a journey like that!"

The smile slowly began to fade as the Doctor's eyes dimmed. "There are times, even after so long, that it is fantastic to go anywhere and realize you literally mean _anywhere_. But so many times—countless other times—I have gotten into deadly, tragic situations, discussions, battles, wars, rescue missions... I'm just glad my friend Donna for once didn't come with me and stayed back at the resort. She would have strangled all of you for trying to throw me out." There wasn't any humor behind his words this time; just sad, tired eyes once again turned to the past.

Jethro sighed; his attempts to cheer the guy up didn't work for long. He got some answers, but wasn't much closer to understanding him. Of course, even the teenager knew no one, human or alien, could face something like the Doctor did and not be haunted by it.

Jethro could at least try to help. Plus, like the Doctor mentioned, he was a bit too curious.

"Doctor?" He leaned forward to rest his chin on his knee. "Pardon my asking, but what was it like? Earlier, with Sky?" Like he expected, the Time Lord didn't answer immediately or even look at him. Looking closer, Jethro saw he was holding his breath, obviously thinking.

He felt a hand on his head, making him sigh. "Your mother thinks you shouldn't bother the Doctor anymore, boy." Biff ruffled his son's hair until his hand was pushed away. "If he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't have to. I doubt he would anyway, especially to someone your age."

"Man, why do you always have to try and 'protect' me from everything?" asked Jethro, annoyed. "Besides, talking helps, like admitting something happened and proving to yourself that it's over. That's why 'therapy' is a lot of talking."

"Guess your right," the Doctor chimed in. He was still looking elsewhere, surprising the others that he was paying attention to them. "I don't think I'm going to need therapy, but I figure you deserve an answer to your question."

"Deserve?" Val repeated in astonishment. "What right would he have? He didn't have the right to even ask questions!"

"Mother..."

Looking at the family, the Doctor said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "The curiosity of children is always a right. That's what I think, at least..." A moment later, he added, "Well, human children. The others: maybe not..."

Quiet again, he was about to get lost in his thoughts when he said wistfully, "It was cold." Jethro blinked, caught off guard.

"Huh?"

"When I was talking through Sky to the creature. I was just talking to her, trying to work out what kind of being it was as well as how to help it, and when I noticed I was losing my peripheral vision, it was too late." The Doctor told it like a storyteller, but his pained expression showed it was an unpleasant memory. His tawny brown eyes were locked with Jethro's, making the boy uncomfortable. Twisting his ring around his finger, he listened, noticing how aged the old man's face really looked.

"I was completely focused on talking and thinking. My eyesight started to dim, with the edges turning black. I only noticed when I felt my throat get dry. When I tried to swallow, I couldn't; when I tried to talk, I couldn't. I felt a chill on the back of my head and felt it run down my spine. Instead of fading away, it spread to make my whole body frigid and numb." Both males gripped their arms tighter at the thought of it, but the Doctor continued. "I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, and I felt my head get clouded and slow. To a human, that incapacitated, muggy mental state would have made them instantly give up. I could still somewhat see and hear, and I knew what was going on, though that might have made it worse.

"Next thing I knew, I heard Sky's voice, loud and clear in my ears. Right after it I heard my own voice say the same thing. The fact that I remembered or noticed myself say it was the scariest part." His voice was getting quieter with each sentence. "I tried to fight it the whole time, but I just got colder, soon making me even believe I never had a body at all. It was horrible, hearing my voice but not being the one speaking. Then there was yelling and arguing. I was going to be killed and I couldn't do a thing about it."

The Doctor paused for a moment, now staring into space again instead of at the teenager he was talking to. "The next thing I remember was that after Sky said something, everything started getting quieter. I thought I was losing my hearing and dying a bit more. Then there was a bright light, and it was like someone dropped a steaming wet towel over me: all the coldness went away, all the numbness, all the darkness, everything. Like nothing had happened."

It took a minute for Jethro to realize he had finished the story from his point of view. It was so different than what they saw. The teen had tried to imagine what it was like for the Doctor, but (though he would never admit it) it scared him. Just imagining it made him more terrified than he had ever been before, and the man it actually happened to was telling it like he was reading a book.

Thinking the event over, Jethro nodded to himself. "I guess we really showed off the worst of humanity today," he mumbled, suddenly taking great care in inspecting the dull shine of his ring.

"In a way, yeah, you did." The Doctor agreed with no sarcasm or anger. "However it wasn't entirely unpredictable: humans tend to become desperate in a panic, and they'll almost always go with the quickest option or one that yields instant results."

The kid started playing with his ring again. "...I— well... Sorry, Doctor," Jethro said hastily, the rest coming naturally as he made sure to evade his eyes. "I can't speak for the rest of us, but I know 'sorry' can't really be enough. It was just so sudden and unexpected, and I didn't know how to deal with it safely, and with all the yelling I couldn't think as clearly as I should have."

Eyebrow raised, the Time Lord asked, surprisingly lightly, "What're you apologizing for?" His tone made Jethro look up, stunned. "You're a human; that's instinct for humans, especially children. All that's in the past now, though. Got to keep moving and never stop running."

"B-But something like that shouldn't just happen and be forgotten!" Jethro couldn't believe how the Doctor felt about that. 'Just keep running'? Everyone he knew would need mental rehabilitation for a long time if it had happened to them, and this guy can get up and go twenty minutes later! "Human or not, you still have free will and feelings, so shouldn't you be the least bit traumatized after being possessed by an unknown entity?"

"Blimey, yes! These experiences are the ones I never forget, especially since I'm in a fragile mental state at the moment and beginning to question why I like humans in the first place." The Doctor's eyes flickered between the other passengers in the car as he spoke, meaning every word he said and not even mentioning the other examples. He was beginning to feel like humans were the hunters and he was the hunted, the one whose life of running had actually been caused by the species. Humans could switch sides so very easily with minimum persuasion, while he's had whole civilizations—whole planets—as enemies for centuries. Poor Jethro's mother was one who was all for throwing the helpless time traveler out into the lethal landscape of Midnight; she was also the first one to talk to him after he regained control, trying to side with him so she didn't have to admit she was wrong. If Donna was here, the first thing she would have done was either hug him and check to make sure he was alright or slap him and give him a lecture about needing to know when a creature is not the compromising type. Martha probably would have checked the others for signs of another possession before giving him a hug. Rose would have sat next to him with teary eyes and a smile and given him a simple "Hello". Instead he got a very obvious lie from a self-centered human.

He realized that Dee and Professor Hobbes had not turned around or said anything. Listening for a second, he picked up the scribbling of a pen and a light snoring from the professor. That made him smile. _This just happened to be a bad day, not a good day,_ the Doctor reminded himself.

Turning back to the teenager, he continued: "You have to remember, Jethro, that if that happened to a human or a similar being, they could choose or be forced to be paranoid, frightened, and unstable for the rest of their life. That can't happen to me. When you live as long as I do and practically walk into every exciting-but-potentially-dangerous day in all of time, you're bound to face hardships. I just have to tell myself to find better days to live through. If I live in fear of something for 'the rest of my life', then I'd be like that forever. I just have to make do; it's part of life, so just keep of living, as well as you can."

He stopped to sigh. "And... I guess I could say that really wasn't the worst way it could have gone. I've been through worse, and I'm still standing."

_...what a strange guy._ Jethro's mouth was hanging open in partial surprise from the Doctor's speech, but not in an uninterested way, like when he usually listened to old guys talk forever. A nine-hundred-and-five-year-old alien he met on a deadly shuttle ride may have made that day the worst and best day ever at the same time.

The last thing the Doctor said got him thinking, and what he came up with almost made him snicker. "By 'worse', Doctor," Jethro ventured, "Does that mean that today wasn't the worst day ever for you, or are you implying you've been...possessed more than this once?" He smirked when he heard Val groan at her son's questions.

The Doctor was almost quick to answer, but he stopped to think. Then he shrugged. "I meant the first, but I guess both are accurate, yeah."

A laugh got caught in his throat as Jethro stared at the Time Lord, a growing smile on his lips. "You've been possessed before?"

"...yep, twice in just the last...three years? Two years...? Nope, almost three. It could have been three times, but we were lucky once... Well," the Doctor corrected himself, a quizzical expression and narrowed eyes evident, "it technically was three times, since one of them possessed me twice, and then my friend Rose thrice, so that would make it three times for me, and it could have been four."

The poor teen could just barely keep up, slowly shaking his head and laughing. "Has anyone ever told you that you sometimes sound completely mad?"

"Maybe I am: I'm an alien with two hearts and almost a millennia of experience, traveling the cosmos in a wooden box. To humans, that's the ramblings of a daft dreamer." A wide grin appeared on his face. "Normal to me."

"You're anything but normal, Doctor," Jethro laughed. "How could you have a worse experience than this, since you've been possessed before?"

"Well, this was probably the middle one; it wasn't the worst, but it also wouldn't be the one I would pick if I had to relive one of them." Smile faltering, he continued, "The worst one was about a year ago. My friend Martha and I were stuck on a cargo spaceship that had forty-two minutes before it crashed into a living sun. They had scooped its heart out for fuel, thinking it was just a burning mass of hydrogen, but part of it took over one of the crew members and made him sabotage the ship. He tried to kill everyone, somewhat succeeding by turning a few to ashes."

He stopped, his eyes glazing over for a moment, before he blinked and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand stopped and slowly slid down his face; Jethro realized just how much he looked like a weary old man when he did that. "It was when I looked at the sun," he continued, dropping his hand onto his shoulder, "that I heard it whispering and crying, getting louder after each second. Telepaths, remember? That means that any telepathy's volume is equal to the strength of the mental link...

"When I finally got my frozen limbs to move, I ran to a corridor and collapsed in a corner. The image of the flames that was burned into my retinas actually started to burn, lighting a pain in the back of my head that got stronger and stronger. The voices were screaming at me in my head now. I couldn't think straight, especially when the pain started to melt down my spine like thick lava under my skin. I tried to fight it... There was only so much I could do while being burned out 'til hollow.

"...That time definitely was worse than this..." he slowly recapped. "The copying creature started at my voice and left me frozen. I don't know if it could do more, but it planned to have you all throw me out; if it could do more, it didn't have to bother. On the ship, it wasn't just an unknown creature that took control of my body. No, it was the essence of a living sun, an intangible part of that flaming mass of hydrogen that obtained consciousness, trying to torture me into submission from within before tossing the unneeded pilot into the funeral pyre. Instead of just being immobilized, I was being treated like a tree being burned into a canoe."

He stopped to think, realizing he had been talking to a teenaged human. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away," the Doctor said with a sigh, glancing at the wide-eyed boy. "Is this too much?"

Jethro quickly shook his head, mortified yet intrigued at the story. "What happened in the end?" he asked a bit too eagerly. He hoped the Doctor wouldn't think he missed the point of his agonizing memory and be disappointed in him, but it was a real epic; after living for years in his bubble of unwanted protection, he longed for an adventure. The Doctor most likely could summarize a couple dozen of his for Jethro off the top of his head.

"Hmm? Oh, well after however long it was, I felt the fire on every one of my nerves start to vanish. Not really die out, but dissipate into little sparks, figuratively speaking. The creature in me left for the original in the star. It was only after that I found out the captain dropped the fuel back to the sun." Another pause, then softly, "She sacrificed herself just like the hostess did, jumping out into space with the possessed crewman.

"...He was her husband."

Another pause brought silence to the shuttle car, but the Doctor quickly broke it with a sharp intake of air. "It was her choice to make, and we shouldn't mourn her wish," he said before looking at his teenaged audience and changing the subject. "Of course, that was the worst experience I've had with disembodied entities trying to manipulate and kill me from my own skin. The least horrifying—" He let out low whistle. "Looking back at it now, I'm almost upset at myself for finding it amusing."

Jethro wasn't too stunned by the sudden topic switch. "Was it before the other one?"

"Yup. I had taken my friend Rose to the year five billion and twenty-three, after I— uh, spent the holidays with her family." He smiled sheepishly at his slip-up; he didn't want to go over everything. The Doctor hated repeats.

"The Earth is still around then?"

"Different planet; we went to a hospital to visit a friend."

"Oh, I can see where this is going," the black-haired boy laughed. "Loads of necrotic stuff happens in hospitals!"

Val looked like she wanted to stop Jethro's talking altogether, but she must have given up with arguing. She was glaring at her son's head and occasionally the Doctor. The latter couldn't decide whether or not she was the least bit interested in his stories.

He ignored it. "Jethro, do you know what a psychograft is?"

"No."

"Good. Every civilized planet has them banned, but if you ever find one, get away. Get the hell out of there as fast as possible."

"They aid in this tale of yours?" Jethro asked, eyebrow raised.

"That they do!" The Doctor got a wide grin on his face. "I won't tell you any specific info so you don't get any ideas, but a psychograft is the cause of everything. A thousand scientifically-created humanoid creatures with every disease known to the species hidden illegally under the building: I had to deal with that, plus a body-jumper."

It could have just been the morbidity of the setting, but Jethro was intrigued. "Jumped just between you and your friend?"

"Well, originally, but also to one of the creatures and a half-life for a little." The Time Lord held up a finger to silence Jethro before he started questioning. "Too complicated and unnecessary to explain what they are, but they're humanoid."

The teen shrugged, an innocent 'hey, just curious' expression framed by black hair. "This jumper couldn't have done anything too major, if it's 'laughable' today, right?"

The Doctor snickered. "Dangerous, yeah, at first. More of an annoying hindrance, though. Trouble: yes. Obnoxious, vain, and dull: yes." He sighed, resting his head in his cupped hands, elbows on his knees. "Imagine the situation first: We're at a hospital, visiting a friend. The nuns make artificial humans to take the diseases of the sick. I'm about to confront them. Then I find out my friend is possessed, who then goes and releases all of the diseased creatures."

"One-touch kill?"

"One-touch kill."

"Ouch."

"Mm-hmn."

"I think I see where this is going." Jethro watched the older man roll his eyes with a snicker. Shaking his head, he asked rhetorically, "What do you get yourself into?"

"Ugh..." he groaned in good humour, running a hand through his hair once again. "I don't know— Everyone always asks me that, and I still don't know." Laughing, the Time Lord continued, "Now we are hiding in a room, somewhat safe from the diseased, and I geniously try and help my friend by forcing the possessor out of her body." His hand dropped from his oddly messed-up hair. "I was so thick that I completely forgot that I would be possessed next."

Before he could stop himself, Jethro asked, "Did it feel different than the others?"

"Oh yeah, no physical pain; just psychological distress and uncomfortable-ness." The Doctor couldn't help but shudder a bit at the memory. "I mean, technically it was a human mind that time, as opposed to unidentifiable species from today, but it may have made it more awkward. Next to that, it was just a hindrance, putting our lives at risk, making me say things to Rose, just being an annoying buzzing in my head." He grimaced, and Jethro couldn't help but laugh.

The teen clamped a hand over his mouth, but the Doctor urged him on. "No, go ahead and laugh! Even I think it's funny that something like that happened to something like me. It gets even better when you remember the worst part about it."

Jethro's hand was hiding his smirk. "What was the worst part about it?"

"I, the Doctor, was possessed by a female."

"…wait. Wait! You mean a _girl_ was—!"

"_We once again apologize for the inconvenience. Resort security is pulling up alongside the shuttle right now and is preparing to transport you back to the resort."_

"And that's our cue to get back to life as we knew it!" the Doctor announced, hopping to his feet in a flash, cutting off anything Jethro was trying to say. "Allons-y! Best we start to get away from today."

Jethro got up, wanting to say something, but he didn't know what else to say after all that. When the Doctor looked back at him, however, he didn't try to persuade the man again. There was a smile, he could see, but his eyes were not with it. He would still need some time before he'll be alright again, but at least he looked better than before.

_Hopefully his friend will help him out later,_ he mused as he collected his bag and followed the others to the back of the shuttle.

When he passed the Doctor, the teen grinned. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Oh no, thank you!" he countered. "I just needed to get some stuff off my chest. I tend to keep too much to myself these days."

"Well, if you're willing to share…." Jethro's grin became a smirk. "Going off what you said earlier, how exactly did you start your traveling? Did you run away from home?"

"Oh, Jethro," the Doctor drawled, draping an arm over his shoulder as they moved into the rescue car. "Now _that_ is an interesting story…."

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><p><strong>I must've read the first bunch of pages tens of times, but the end is only a few days old, so if there is a drastic difference in quality (or style), that's why. Anyway, thanks for reading~<strong>


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